


non-existent non-platonic

by DaydreamNightmare



Series: roommates [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, being together without being together, fuckbuddies neck deep into one another and denial, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaydreamNightmare/pseuds/DaydreamNightmare
Summary: (She doesn't miss it. She doesn't think about it. She's perfectly content awaiting this life of platonic co-parenting with Bellamy.)(Shut up.)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: roommates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596388
Comments: 8
Kudos: 169





	non-existent non-platonic

**Author's Note:**

> I had to finish it off. Technically part 2, can be read alone. Enjoy!

They aren't together. Of course, they're still together every single day – they live together, for one, and she's kind of growing their together-baby – but they're not _together_ together. Of course, no one is really buying it.  
  


"You two have been fucking in secret and conceived a baby," Octavia rolls her eyes. "If it was nothing, you would have at least had the decency to fuck out in the open."   
  


"You heard the woman, Clarke," Bellamy chimes in from the couch where he's grading papers. "Hop on the table and spread 'em."  
  


" _Jesus Christ_ , Bellamy, I am developing childhood trauma."  
  


"You're 24, O, I think you're a little too old for that."  
  


"Maybe, but you're still not too old for a _really_ late term abortion."  
  


"Listen here-"  
  


"Please stop," Clarke sighs loudly as she puts a cup of coffee in front of Octavia. "No murder threats, no traumatizing your sister, no nonsensical talk of our non-existent relationship."  
  


"You _have_ a rela-"  
  


"You're right, we have a relationship, a platonic one. Stop talking about the non-existent non-platonic relationship, then,” Clarke says, just to rile her up a little. “Jesus, is this what having a kid is like? I'm already exhausted."  
  


"You don't think that might be because you're 95 weeks pregnant?" Octavia says dryly and Clarke rolls her eyes. She's only 40 weeks pregnant, thank you very much, but that might be a leading factor in her exhaustion. Much like everything else in her life, this pregnancy refuses to go as planned. There's been bleeding, there's been pissing her pants, there's been pelvic pain and gas, there's been talk of an induction and a c-section, and there was even a short-term panic over the possibility of twins, but that turned out to be a smudge on the ultrasound screen.  
  


Now the pregnancy doesn't seem even close to end, instead choosing to drag out into forever. Bean, the ever-so-cliché nicknamed baby inside her, seems to be warm and comfortable and not that into leaving any time soon. She's about to stick an eviction notice up in there.  
  


"Do you think you'll give birth in the next 24 hours?" Bellamy asks distractedly and Clarke raises an eyebrow at him.  
  


"Oh, yeah, it's really something I can plan to the second, Bell," she responds and he rubs his forehead. "Any grand plans?"  
  


"Just a school dinner. I'm looking for a reason to skip it and I feel like the dean might be more forgiving if I skip it because my child is being born."  
  


"I'll do my best so that you don't have to socialise," she responds and Octavia is about to giggle when Clarke yelps.  
  


"What the fuck," Octavia shouts instead and Bellamy jumps up in a flurry of paper and panic.  
  


"I didn't mean this minute, Clarke!"  
  


She rolls her eyes and presses a hand against her stomach. "This baby will break something in there. My ribs, probably. Or my spine. Or its own legs," she rubs where it kicked wildly and the Blakes let out sighs of disappointment and annoyance.  
  


-.-  
  


Truth be told, no one wants Clarke to be in labour more than she does. Bellamy is a close second for obvious reasons, but regardless – she just wants to hold the baby already, and wants to not be pregnant any more.  
  


Of course, giving birth brings with it a heap of other issues, mostly the whole parenting thing. Clarke is fairly certain that Bellamy will do fine, on account of having raised the brat sitting across from her and bitching at him at the moment. Clarke has taken care of exactly four living things, all succulents, all passed tragically. She hopes a baby will be a little more durable. At least a baby can scream its lungs out until you feed it. Succulents 3 and 4 just stood forgotten under her desk in the same bag she brought them in for months.  
  


It helps that it's Bellamy that she's doing this thing with. Despite the whole shebang nearly destroying their friendship and the hormonal roller coaster that lasted until week 18, they're working together well now. She bitches and he rubs her feet and reads her excerpts from What to Expect When You're Expecting. The sexual tension that shortly before Bean was plentiful seems to be relatively reined in. In fact, were she not pregnant, she would have a hard time believing that they ever did much more than pat each others backs while squeezing past one another in the bar.  
  


(She doesn't miss it. She doesn't think about it. She's perfectly content awaiting this life of platonic co-parenting with Bellamy.)  
  


(Shut up.)  
  


For conveniences' sake, they're sharing a room now, as Bellamy's room is slowly but surely being turned into a storage room for the overabundance of baby stuff they have – a changing table that she's not sure where it'll end up, large stuffed animals that make Bellamy sneeze, clothes to last it until it's five years old at the least. The crib is in their room, set and ready to go, as is Clarke's hospital bag, which has been sitting at the foot of the bed for four weeks now. She wonders if she should rewash the clothes she's packed at this point. She could probably ask Bellamy to do it. Scratch that – Bellamy has probably already done it.  
  


She feels trapped every so often, when Bellamy is snoring next to her and the baby has a burst of energy and decides to keep her up as well. She feels so out of balance – none of this was ever in her plans, not this early, not in this way. She has only herself to blame, really, for everything from deciding to have a friends with benefits type of relationship with someone so close to her, getting pregnant from that same relationship and deciding to keep the baby and co-parent it – p l a t o n i c a l l y – with the aforementioned fuck buddy.  
  


(Worst thing is, she could have easily had it all. She's not stupid-stupid. She notices things. But she decided that they should be platonic, she was the one who said that any emotions would only be further complications. She was the one who pushed Bellamy to date when she couldn't, as if that was all they needed to return to normalcy.)  
  


(And here they are. Platonically.)  
  


(Shut _up_.)  
  


She doesn't go into labour in the next 24 hours. Bellamy looks absolutely miserable as she fixes his bow-tie.  
  


-.-

It's a whole week later that Clarke wakes up in the middle of the night with a gasp. She looks around the dark room, disoriented and groggy, when she feels it.  
  


Wet.  
  


"Bell," she slaps aimlessly in his direction until she hits warm skin and hears him grunt. "Bell, I think it's happening."  
  


"Hwha," he mutters sleepily blinking at her. She feels under the sheets at her underwear.  
  


"Baby," she says as she finally and truly realizes that the Braxton-Hicks contractions she had been having were truly nothing compared to this. "Baby incoming!"  
  


"Ba- baby?!" he finally wakes up and leaps out of bed clumsily, grabbing clothes. "Can you walk?"  
  


"I think so," she says, throat tight with the heart that's suddenly in it. "Oh God, Bellamy, I don't think I can do this right now."  
  


He drops what he's holding – a shoe and a hat – and kneels in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders.  
  


"Look at me, Clarke," he says calmly, and she does, trying to keep her breathing controlled. "Clarke, hey. You're good. You're going to do great."  
  


"What if something happens?" she asks and suddenly she's crying silent tears as her hands shake. "What if-"  
  


She truly doesn't expect the kiss, and it almost shocks her into submission. His hands are warm on her cheeks and her lips are firm and gentle on hers and her chest is alight with something unidentifiable.  
  


(It's either the pain of a contraction or the crushing realization that she's stupidly, idiotically and pathetically in love with Bellamy Blake. She'll have to deal with that later.)  
  


"That was very..." she says when she has full use of her lips again, staring at him in a daze. "Very Hollywood, Bellamy."  
  


"Shut up," he says, but there's a giddy smile on his face.  
  


"No, seriously," she huffs as he helps her up. "I don't remember that in my First Aid classes."  
  


He taps her up the head and she laughs as he goes to pull on his shoes. She thinks about actually getting dressed, but opts to only change from her soaking wet pyjama pants into dry sweatpants. Bellamy helps her pull on her Vans and before she knows it they're in the Uber and Bellamy is texting Octavia and the gang with one hand and his other holds hers firmly.  
  


"We're gonna have a baby," Clarke says, unnecessarily as they stand in front of the hospital and Bellamy laughs, kisses her knuckles.  
  


"We're having a baby," he says. "Let's go."  
  


-.-  
  


Penelope Griffin-Blake is born twenty hours later. She has ten fingers and ten toes, and a head full of dark hair, and lungs to rival Pavarotti's.  
  


"Jesus Christ," Bellamy says silently as they stare at her. "That's a baby right there."  
  


"Indeed there is," Clarke replies, running her fingers lazily across Penelope's forehead.  
  


"Clarke..." he says, his voice thick and full of feelings that she doesn't think any one of them is equipped to deal with at the moment.  
  


"I know," she says silently, and finds it in her to look him in the eyes. His expression is unreadable for a moment before he kisses her forehead sweetly and she sighs and closes her eyes. This is more than enough for now.


End file.
